AH: Gabriel's Capture (and Castiel's Escape)
by Zribbles
Summary: They so nearly caught their angel. Nearly, but he got away. But they caught a better one, worth a lot more. It just cost them a lot to do it.


Twigs tore at his feathers as he ran through, as if mocking him in the face of the hunt. He ducked, twisted, dodged frantically through the forest, careening past thick tree trunks and disturbing the forests inhabitants.

Behind him, he could hear the snarls of the demons, the humans egging them on with cheers and the occasional harsh shout.

For what felt like forever, he ran on.

He couldn't fly away from the menace that hunted him – the humans would simply shoot him down and then it would all be over.

No, he had to get out of their range before he risked unfurling his sleek wings, before he attempted to fly away.

He was practically flying across the ground anyway, running as fast as he physically could.

So, really, it was only a matter of time before something went drastically wrong.

He burst out into a wide clearing and skidded to a halt, turning immediately, panic bubbling up within him to overwhelm him.

Herded him. They had herded him, straight into a trap. He was surrounded, humans smirking at him from behind lines of leashed demons, snarling and slavering.

They were going to strip his feathers from him before they killed him. He trembled wildly at the thought, his mind burning with the knowledge that it would be an excruciating process.

Or, even worse, they would take him alive, captive. They would lock him up somewhere, strip him of his feathers, then wait for them to regrow – and repeat.

On the other hand, if he died before his feathers were stripped, they would lose the lustre that made them so desired, and he would be spared all the pain of losing a big part of what made him an angel. It would be easy to foil them – a few more steps forwards and he would be in the reach of those slavering jaws. The demons wouldn't care about their masters wishes if he was so close, they would be unable to resist the urge to rip him to shreds. A few moments pain, then sweet nothing, as opposed to a potential lifetime of torture.

Still, he hesitated. He didn't want to die if he could help it, he didn't want to lose his wings. Old instincts burned inside him uselessly – he wanted to protect these humans in the presence of the demons, as once had been his purpose. It saddened him greatly that his purpose was no longer relevant, that he was no longer relevant – that was the sad truth for all angels these days. How times had changed.

Now, it was the angels that needed protecting – against the humans that had once so long ago been their charge.

He turned slowly, looking for a way out, for a break in the circle. There was none, demons grinning at him coldly, their ranks closed.

No way out.

The only option left to him to avoid the pain of his wings being stripped was to charge into the demons. He readied himself to do just that, steeling himself for the pain of those teeth and claws to rip into him.

The faintest whisper stopped him, carried in on a gentle breeze. The tell-tale whisper of angel wings.

"Castiel." The other angel far overhead murmured, and the demons on the ground went crazy. They jostled each other roughly as they stretched towards the sky, howling and baying wildly. Castiel shrank back from the crazed beasts, renewing his hunt for a break in the line to escape through.

The few humans had their hands full trying to control the demons and calm them, confused as to why their pets were going wild. But still there was no break, and to charge or to fly would still be the end of him.

"Castiel, run!" The call this time came as a scream, the angel streaking from the sky into the clearing and setting about tearing demons apart immediately, making a pathway for the younger angel.

Castiel did as instructed, breaking from the clearing and bolting off into the forest, leaving the ground behind as soon as he deemed it safe enough to take to the air.

Only then did he allow his thoughts to turn to his saviour. He felt a pang of guilt stab at him, and he bit back the sound he was making unintentionally; a low sad wailing, barely perceptible.

It should have been him down there, it should be him with his wings stripped before he was granted death. Or maybe not even given that, captured and taken away somewhere strange and foreign in order to prolong the pain. Should be him, not Gabriel.

Gabriel put up a good fight, in the end. He killed almost half of the demons, ripping through them with cruel abandon. But in the end, the same instincts that had assaulted Castiel earlier were his undoing. He had one of the humans beneath him, was snapping bone after bone with brutal efficiency to keep the others at bay. And then the pained, terrified human beneath him made eye contact. Gabriel faltered for one instant, and that was all the demons needed.

They rushed him from all sides at once, and though he fought valiantly, they tore into him viciously. He was overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

The last thing Gabriel saw before darkness claimed his mind was the summer sky, so clear and beautiful, the vision marred by the faces of the demons above him.

The last thing he felt, claws shredding soft flesh between his wings.

And the last thing he heard, a wild enraged cry.

"No, cage him! He'll suffer more that way, for what he did to Sean!"


End file.
